Moments in Time
by njbrennan
Summary: A collection of ficlets and drabbles that will show Edith and Anthony in a variety of settings, scenarios, and time periods. Recommendations and prompts are welcomed! All characters belong to Fellowes, although we all treat them so much better!
1. Drawings

A/N: Hello! I've decided to create a series of ficlets and drabbles for all of the little Andith scenes that pop in my brain that aren't really enough to form into a full story. This first one appeared on my Tumblr account many moons ago (and the icon photo here was also the companion photo with the story), and so I thought I'd modify it a bit and use it to start it off. I hope to have another one posted soon.

Also, if you have any suggestions for scenes that you'd like to see, I am super willing and eager to write them! Any time period, activity, rating (though maybe cap it at hard T?), or anything else you can think of! Just send me a PM and I'll get to writing :) I'd love to hear your thoughts about this if you can spare the time!

Thanks!

Natalie

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Scene setting: Modern AU. Anthony hangs up some of his children's drawings in the kitchen while on the phone with Edith._

"Yes, my sweet one, I just picked Lottie and Ada up from ballet and they've brought home loads of drawings from art class today. Just putting some of them up onto the refrigerator as we speak."

"Any of their handsome papa?" Edith teased.

"Just the one that Lottie drew," Anthony chuckled bashfully. "Standing next to her lovely mother in front of our summer cottage in Yorkshire. Your baby bump is quite disproportionate, though no less wonderful, if I may say, and I apparently have nothing but twigs for limbs. Sticks, really."

"Well, you are rather lanky, darling!"

"I'll admit to that. Though, it's rather amazing how such a spindly man ever managed to attract such a beauty."

Edith blushed faintly and she was sure Anthony could hear her smile as she spoke. "Flatterer. But I am going to try and head home soon. I'm almost done editing this article. Maybe another hour or so?"

"Well hurry home, my darling. I am _very_ eager to see you…"

Edith's blush deepened to a dark scarlet. She knew precisely the thing for which her husband was so eager. She was rather eager, as well.

"The article can wait. I'm on my way home now," she blurted out as she fumbled with some papers on her desk and hastily tried to pack up.

Anthony chuckled once again. "I'm glad," he told her. Provocatively, he added, "I'll make sure the children are occupied. Slip in quietly if you can…"

"When have I ever done _anything_ quietly, Anthony?" Edith quipped, this time knowing Anthony would be the one blushing.


	2. Wedding

A/N: Thank you very much for the lovely comments for the previous chapter! And the offer still stands for requesting stories if you're interested :)

This one popped into my head a few months ago and I'm just now getting to it haha. It's definitely a lot longer than "ficlet" status, but who can argue with more Andith?! It's a Modern AU in which Edith and Anthony meet at Mary and Matthew's wedding, but we'll see a few other DA characters pop by, too.

I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to hear from you about it :D

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chiffon ribbons everywhere, centerpieces exploding with calla lilies and babies breath, and one rather testy bride: this was the wedding of Mary and Matthew Crawley and Edith was miserable.

After enduring weeks of wedding preparations, traveling to and from Yorkshire for fittings and rehearsals at her mother's behest and after one painfully long ceremony, Edith was now relegated to recording the video guest book, the curse of the spinster daughter. Mary had gotten the idea a few weeks ago after watching yet another wedding-themed competition show and, perhaps as a form of torture to be inflicted on her younger sister, the bride decided that dateless Edith would have nothing better to do during her wedding than to visit the guests and record their greetings and well-wishes.

It was punishment indeed for Edith Crawley.

Not only did the London journalist fail to find an adequate date before the wedding, but now she had to spend the entire night being Mary's errand girl. It was humiliating, running from table to table, asking the same question over and over again.

_Care to say anything to the bride and groom before they depart on their honeymoon?_

Worse yet was when she stumbled upon a table of familiar faces. She couldn't very well hide her shame in front of them, could she?

"What, like a greeting or something?" Thomas Barrow sneered. He leaned back in his chair and took a long sip from his gin and tonic, compliments of the open bar, which was always standard at every Crawley gathering. Smoothly, he placed his arm around his date, Daisy Robinson, one of his co-workers at the Grantham Foundation, the charitable wing of the Crawley fortune. All for show, Edith thought as she caught Thomas's eye wander around for potential man candy.

"Yes, like a greeting," Edith explained as she fidgeted in her black pumps and dangled the camcorder in her hand. "Matthew and Mary are doing a virtual guest book; something Mary saw on _Four Weddings_ or some nonsense like that."

"I'm not doing something so stupid," Thomas scoffed.

"Oh, come on, Thomas! It'll be fun. And _so_ romantic!" Daisy slurred as she rubbed her hand on his chest, having had a few too many glasses of the house wine. Poor Daisy…so blind to the obvious, Edith mused.

"You can do it, but I certainly won't!" he huffed as he pulled his arm away and crossed it with the other.

"Fine, Thomas, I'll do it all on my own. How do I look, Edie?" Daisy implored.

Drunk and barking up the wrong tree, Edith thought to herself amusingly. Instead, she replied, "You look fine! Just say something jolly to the happy couple." She tried desperately hard not to convey any of the bitterness she felt for this task, but feared she had come up short.

Oblivious to Edith's dissatisfaction, Daisy hiccupped and said, "Is it recording? Anyway, hello, Mary and Matthew! I just wanted to say how glad I am that you've finally tied the knot. I hope you have a—_hiccup _—lovely honeymoon…lots of romance and shagging! Oh, shit…did I just say 'shagging?'"

"It's fine, I'll edit it out," Edith reassured her, although upon seeing how crimson and embarrassed the young woman became, she wasn't sure if she would. It was awfully hilarious to see her family friends and co-workers in such a state. "Thomas? Anything?"

"Ahh, nice open bar," he murmured as he caught a glimpse of Lord Grantham's new assistant, Jimmy, near the D.J. booth. "If you'll excuse me." Thomas promptly pushed his chair away, smoothed down his tie, and nearly sprinted across the dance floor, leaving Daisy confused and Edith attempting to stifle a giggle.

"Thanks, Daisy. I should probably get around to taping the other guests or Mary will have my head," Edith told the young woman, who was too busy glaring at Jimmy to notice Edith's departure.

She moseyed around the high-end banquet hall, a large monstrosity of a venue, complete with a massive dance floor surrounded by round dining tables and a table overflowing with gifts and the most ornate wedding cake Edith had ever seen. Nothing less for Lord Grantham's favorite daughter, of course. Hundreds of guests packed the place, many of whom, Edith had never met: distant American relatives from her mother's side, old university friends of the bride and groom, Papa's stuffy business colleagues.

Nary a familiar face and it made Edith uncomfortable.

Wandering through the dinner tables, the young writer felt like she had recorded enough to please Mary and had earned herself a glass of champagne. She approached the bar and the barman poured a flute for her, which she downed in record time. Just as she was enjoying a moment of peace in the madness of her sister's wedding, Edith heard a voice hiss behind her ear.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mary Crawley accosted. The bride was dressed in a stunning, slimming wedding dress, silk all the way around with beads sewn into the bodice and the cap sleeves. It was the perfect dress for Bridezilla.

"I'm taking a break, Mary, and enjoying a drink," Edith explained coolly, trying her best to stay calm, just as her mother had warned her incessantly before today. "I've already visited about fifty people and recorded their greetings."

"Fifty?" Mary exclaimed, horrified. "Edith, I know that this may be too difficult for you, but there are over three hundred people here and I'd like to have a tape of more than fifteen percent! Let me guess, you've only visited people you know? Like Clarkson and Isobel or Granny?"

"Not just them! There have been others," she countered, suddenly feeling very small.

"Goodness, Edith, try not to be your mousy self for once tonight. Go record some of Matthew's friends or Papa's business chums, hmm? Make yourself useful!" Mary groaned before turning on her heel and taking off to go harass her new husband about some other disaster that had surely occurred during the reception.

Edith caught a sympathetic glance from the barman, who refilled her champagne flute without another word. "Thanks," she murmured before slumping and venturing back into the wild.

The next hour was spent doing her duty. Edith stopped by tables of non-familiars, business chums and university friends just as Mary had so kindly asked. She recorded others as well: expecting parents Sybil and Tom, the former being too pregnant to do much of anything and the latter being too enamored with her state to leave her side; Anna and John Bates, work-friends of her parents, who managed to sneak away from their small army of children to enjoy a night out; William Mason, who gave perhaps the most distracted recording of the night as his gaze and attention kept shifting to Daisy, who was attempting to flirt with Thomas by the bar.

Edith was getting thoroughly fed up with all of it and as the night wore on, her feet grew wearier and the guests grew drunker. So when the D.J. encouraged the guests to head over to the dance floor for the bouquet and garter toss, Edith took the opportunity to sit down at an empty table and rest her aching feet.

"I should never have worn such ridiculous shoes," Edith mumbled to herself as she pulled her black pumps off and massaged her panty-hoed toes. Slumping back into her chair, she watched as the crowd gathered around her sister and new brother-in-law, cheering them on, whooping and hollering. It wasn't as though Edith felt any sort of hatred or contempt for her sister; it was just that the young woman so often felt left out from the goings-on of life. Her sisters, beautiful and tall and raven-haired, had always earned the attention of their parents and of nearly every man who met them, always seemed so poised and put together…so unlike Edith in nearly every respect.

For once, she thought, it would be nice if something like that would come my way. A heavy sigh escaped her as she continued to look on at the wedded bliss of her sister as her groom emerged from underneath her dress with a garter in his mouth.

"Excuse me?" came a gentle voice behind her. "May I?"

Edith turned around and immediately felt her body tense up in the most fabulous way. A tall, blond man, with his hand resting tentatively on the back of the seat next to her, flashed a lopsided grin her way and once Edith nodded her approval, sat down. He was deliciously handsome, dressed in a well-cut navy suit and a purple polka dot tie, and in spite of his lopsided smile, he had a confidence about him that was magnetic.

They were both quiet for a moment before the man gestured toward the crowd gathered on the dance floor. "Terribly silly tradition, isn't it? Women clobbering for a bouquet, men shoving each other for an undergarment of a now-married woman?"

"Hmm?" Edith mumbled, feeling too distracted by a man making conversation with her to pay attention to the actual words he spoke. "Sorry?"

"Oh, never mind. I'm just a grumpy old man…pay me no mind," he chuckled goodheartedly. "I, um, hope I'm not intruding or anything."

"Intruding? No, absolutely not," Edith told him, hoping she had used too much enthusiasm in doing so. Then, picking up the place card in front of her, she added, "But it looks as though we're both intruding on…Anthony Strallan's seat. Though, he seems to be MIA at the moment…not to mention, he left his chicken dinner almost untouched, which will probably irk my sister to no end."

"Yes, well it was a bit dry for my taste," he said flatly, but with a high degree of veiled cheek. "I'm Anthony Strallan, by the way. And you are?"

Edith felt her skin burn all over, spreading from her face down to her chest. "Embarrassed," she mumbled, kicking herself for yet another social faux pas. "E-Edith Crawley, as well."

He laughed at this and offered his hand, which Edith reluctantly took. "Not to worry. I'm just an old codger who likes to tease unsuspecting, beautiful women. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Crawley. I presume you're a sister of the bride?"

"Yes, I am. Mary's younger sister and dutiful videographer," Edith grumbled as she held up the camcorder. "Virtual guest book."

"Ah, I see," Anthony nodded. "Well, aren't you going to ask me for a word to offer to the happy couple?"

"Oh, yes, of course I can!" she exclaimed, fumbling with the camera soon after. "Okay, it's recording."

The blond man straightened his tie and cleared his throat before proceeding. "Robert, dear chap, I never thought when I met you on the crew team at Cambridge all those years ago that you would ever procreate such beautiful daughters. But you have been blessed beyond measure, an envy of many men. To the happy couple, may you have many years of wedded bliss ahead of you, many joys and every happiness. I wish you nothing but the best."

He paused for a moment and then asked nervously, "How was that? Did I do all right?"

"Brilliant! The best all night," Edith assured him, his nerves evaporating as her smile widened. Anthony really did have the most handsome blue eyes, she noticed. "I didn't know that you went to school with Papa."

"Yes, well, it was many, _many_ years ago and it was rather difficult to keep in touch once I moved to London," he explained as he took a sip of his champagne.

"You live in London? I do, as well…just moved for work there actually."

"And what sort of work do you do? You're a Crawley, so…probably law or politics?"

Edith laughed at the thought. "Heavens no! I just started working at _The Sketch_ as a columnist."

"A columnist?" he repeated. "That's fascinating…much more so than a lawyer or a politician."

The crimson blush that had started to fade returned with a vengeance. "It can be, often enough. And what's your profession?"

"Barrister," he said with a quick glance in her direction. "Wig and all. It's very glamorous."

Edith and Anthony were silent for a moment before they both burst out in laughter at his feeble attempt at a joke. But as their laughter dissipated and their gaze really settled on the other, a different mood took hold of them.

Anthony, once confident and sure of himself, felt rather nervous, rather like a schoolboy alone with a girl for the first time, mesmerized by the way this young woman bit her lip and looked away when she laughed, by the way her dark gaze penetrated his. Edith, too, felt nerves grip her body, her lower back perspiring slightly at the mere presence of this handsome stranger sitting so close to her, flirting with her, hypnotizing her with his sapphire eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something, hoping his voice wouldn't croak as he felt it would. But before the words could come out, Edith's eyes widened and she looked startled.

"Oh, shit! Mary's coming! Quick, pretend like I'm taping you again," she whispered frantically as she grabbed the camcorder and aimed it at Anthony, who jolted at the suddenness of the turn of events.

Flustered, he tried to come up with something quickly, desperately trying to remember what he had said moments ago. "I-I um, hope Mary and Matthew have…a nice life. Oh, I mean, congrats on the marriage. May you be blessed with…um…lots of children and uh, a big house and…err, a nice wedding night?"

Mary, who passed by Edith with something resembling a death stare, was now thankfully occupied at the other end of the banquet hall, entertaining some partners from her law firm.

"She's gone," Edith sighed with relief. "Thank you for that, really. She's been hounding on me to record as many people as I can. It's her way of exacting torture on the family spinster who couldn't find a date to her own sister's wedding."

Staring over at Mary, feeling her icy presence even from across the hall, Anthony absentmindedly mumbled, "Yes, weddings can be reminders of one's loneliness, can't they?"

Edith forced a smile, but felt crushed on the inside. Yet another uninterested man taking pity on the pathetic spinster!

But when Anthony turned his attention back to Edith, he suddenly realized what he had said. "Sorry! I don't know why I said that. I mean…I'm here on my own, too."

"Oh?" was all she could muster.

"Yes, it's true. I'm rather hopeless when it comes to women, in fact, though that's probably deathly obvious now," he confessed, hoping Edith had forgiven him for his mishap.

"I'm the same way with men," Edith offered, still finding it hard to believe that she was speaking so openly to a complete stranger, albeit an old friend of Papa's.

"Care to be hopeless together?" he asked.

"What?"

"I-I mean, um, would you care for a dance?" Anthony mumbled. He was certainly flustered by this woman; _that_ he wouldn't doubt.

"I'd love to," Edith replied with a blush, causing Anthony to thank a celestial deity for her acceptance. Like a gentleman he pulled her seat out and offered her his left hand. Edith took it and hand-in-hand, they slowly weaved around the tables and guests towards the dance floor.

Edith was a bit apprehensive at how she had abandoned her video-duty, but once she felt Anthony's hand on the small of her back and inhaled the crisp smell of his soapy scent, all worries disappeared in an instant.

The music began and they swayed. The song was some Latin jazz tune, neither fast nor slow, and soon, many couples filled the dance floor. Anthony led her around, gently rocking his body to the beat, his strong hold on her back encouraging her to do the same. Edith's black dressed swished around her knees, her feminine form showcased by the tall, sturdy frame of Anthony's.

Perhaps it was the champagne she had downed so quickly not long ago or perhaps it something else entirely, but something prompted Edith to migrate her hand from just above Anthony's elbow to his neck, pulling him even closer to her than he already was. For some reason, unlike her experience with most men, she wanted him close; she felt safe with him near her and strange as it was, Edith felt more comfortable than she ever had before, even with this stranger twice her age. As her grasp tightened, Anthony inhaled deeply at the movement, but said nothing.

Unbeknownst to Edith, Anthony's mind was reeling. This was all very dangerous, dancing with the younger daughter of an old friend. Certainly Robert Crawley hadn't invited him to the wedding to hit on one of his children! But Edith…she was so beautiful and warm and interesting. He hadn't known her very long at all, under half an hour, maybe a little more; but why did it feel like he did? It was like they had clicked and it had been instantaneous and rare and real.

This was very dangerous, indeed.

Edith and Anthony said nothing to each other for the remainder of the song, allowing their bodies, instead, to do the talking that their mouths wouldn't or couldn't: gentle tugs to pull the other closer, a provocative thumb that rubbed circles into the lower back of one and the shoulder of the other, shy glances up and down and all around.

Before they knew it, the Latin jazz song had ended. It was only when they pulled apart that either noticed how close they were to one another, that their bodies had practically been flush up against each other.

"I…uh, uh, I need some air," Anthony said as the next song started up.

"Me too," Edith replied, leaving the dance floor before he had a chance to.

Having this sweet, young thing accompany him was _not_ what he had in mind; Anthony needed a moment to collect himself, to clear his thoughts from the images and sounds that had trespassed into his mind when Edith had danced with him. Having her so near would be too hard to resist.

But Anthony followed after her anyway until she led him to a magnificent stone patio on the edge of the banquet hall. It overlooked the gardens and an enchanting fountain, illuminated by twinkling lights. With the chatter of the reception distant, Edith leaned over the rail, breathing in the night air, a serene look on her face.

'Stunning' was the only word Anthony could think of, not only the scenery, but the company as well. Reverently, he approached the rail and leaned up against it, too. "It's a beautiful night for a wedding, isn't it?"

They both looked up, noticing how starry the night sky was, how one could see every constellation and distant planet.

"I never get to see the sky like this, not in London," Edith told him, leaning further into him so that their arms were brushed up against each other.

"Neither do I. Sometimes, one has to go to the country to see real beauty," he whispered, hoping his meaning would not be lost on her.

Edith turned to him, looking into his eyes curiously.

"I don't just mean the sky," he added for clarification, feeling sure that he _wanted _her to know what he meant.

Her face softened. "You don't?"

"No, I don't. I know it's terribly forward of me to ask, especially after knowing you for so little time, but Edith, when we return to London, would you care if I took you out? Like, on a date, a proper date? With real dinner and wine, or a movie and popcorn and candy if that's what you'd prefer. I don't mind, so long as I get to spend more time with you."

"I'm sorry, but did you just ask me out?" Edith asked in disbelief.

Suddenly, Anthony felt like a ridiculous fool. What on earth was he thinking, asking out this young woman on a date? As if someone like Edith Crawley would ever want to date someone like him. "I am terribly sorry, Edith. Forget I ever mentioned it," he mumbled, turning away from her.

As he began to retreat back into the reception, Anthony felt a hand tug at his elbow, altering his course and turning him around. Soon, a hand wasn't all he felt as a pair of warm lips landed softly on his cheek.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Anthony Strallan. I was just surprised, that's all. I don't often have much luck with men and even fewer date offers," Edith explained as she lowered herself from her tiptoes.

"That is a great travesty, Edith," Anthony told her sincerely. He noticed that his arms had instinctively reached for hers when she kissed his cheek and that they were still there, holding her closely. Rubbing her forearms with gentility, Anthony placed his own lips onto Edith's cheek, letting his mouth linger longer than she had, a foretaste of what was someday to come.

Grabbing her hand, Anthony kissed that, too, and led Edith back into the reception where they walked hand-in-hand. There, they resumed her video guest book duties, going from table to table together, laughing and giggling at the absurdity of Mary's many demands.

The rest of the night passed wonderfully for the two, as they shared a few more dances and drinks and pecks to the cheek, the promise of more looming so very near, and for the first time in a long time, both Edith and Anthony were glad that they had arrived dateless to a wedding.

So very glad indeed.


End file.
